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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29229264">First Day of My Life: Burn One Down</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ride4812/pseuds/Ride4812'>Ride4812</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shameless (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:42:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,706</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29229264</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ride4812/pseuds/Ride4812</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ian Gallagher &amp; Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>First Day of My Life: Burn One Down</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As far as Ian was concerned, he and Mickey had spent too much time apart over the course of the<br/>last seven years to waste even an idle moment not being together. He was pretty sure that his need<br/>to constantly be around his fiancé indicated that he'd become codependent, which probably wasn't<br/>entirely healthy, but when push came to shove he didn't give a shit. He loved the hell out of his<br/>man and if craving his company was a bad thing, he didn't care to be good. It wasn't that he<br/>couldn't function when Mickey wasn't around; he could and he did. It was more that he preferred<br/>not to have to.</p><p>Individual circumstances surrounding each of his cases dictated Mickey's schedule, causing him to<br/>have unpredictable hours. Though Mickey never told Ian not to get a job, he had reiterated<br/>multiple times that they were doing perfectly fine without his participation towards finances. It<br/>wasn't that Ian didn't want to work, it was more that he didn't want to contend with conflicting<br/>schedules. He knew Mickey well enough to read between the lines when it came to his motivation<br/>behind making decisions. He didn't need to hear Mickey explicitly say the words to know that he<br/>preferred for Ian not to work so they could spend as much time together as possible.</p><p>For the most part, Ian kept himself busy. His typical week consisted of learning recipes from their<br/>next door neighbor Lupe, cooking the new meals for ungrateful mouths, taking expat Spanish<br/>classes at the local community college, considering making friends but deciding not to, spending<br/>time with Yevgeny, Skyping with various family members, avoiding Skyping with Zev, laying<br/>out not getting tan with Svetlana, reading, and going into town to buy useless crap that Mickey<br/>bitched about but ended up liking more than Ian did.</p><p>When Mickey wasn't at work they fucked a lot, chilled on the beach, rode quads, rode each other,<br/>grabbed food at Jorje's, fucked some more, fought, played with Yevgeny, talked, fucked again,<br/>cuddled, Skyped with Zev, and enjoyed mind altering substances.</p><p>Of course there were shitty days where everything seemed to go wrong, but he found it easier to<br/>cope with them when he looked out their bedroom window at a postcard view.</p><p>"What's up, Firecrotch? Wake and Bake?" Mickey greeted, as he walked onto the beach and<br/>leaned over the chaise lounge Ian was lying on. Plucking the joint from between his lips, he gave<br/>him a sweet kiss. He stood up straight and stretched his arms over his head, while gazing out to<br/>the ocean.</p><p>"Been awake for a while," Ian informed him, yanking his fiancé back down by his t-shirt for<br/>another kiss, "Haven't seen you in like three days," he groused.</p><p>"It's been like 18 hours, man," Mickey corrected with a grin, “Needy motherfucker.”<br/>The redhead just looked at him, clearly unimpressed by his use of facts in the conversation, "Did<br/>you eat anything?"</p><p>"This morning or over the last 18 hours?"</p><p>"Either."</p><p>"Not really. Overnights got me fucked up,” He admitted, pulling off his shirt and tugging down<br/>his jeans so he was left in only his blue striped boxer shorts. Ian’s eyes soaked in his lover’s body,<br/>thinking that the sight was more impressive than the expanse of the majestic sea that lay in front of<br/>them.</p><p>"Isn't Svet making Chilaquiles for Yevvy? Go get some," He suggested, taking another hit from<br/>his joint before resting it on the ash tray on the small table beside him. Sitting up to take a sip of<br/>his water, he crinkled down his eyebrows at the mischievous smirk on his fiancé’s face, “What?”<br/>“Why would I get breakfast nachos when I can get some of you instead?” Mickey flirted climbing<br/>onto Ian’s lap. He bounced a bit on his man’s crotch with a naughty glint in his eyes.</p><p>Biting his lip, Ian grabbed handfuls of Mickey’s full ass and squeezed as the brunet continued to<br/>tease him. He leaned in as if he was going to kiss Ian, but rested his lips on his lover’s bare<br/>shoulder instead. Dissatisfied, Ian tilted the brunet’s chin up to press their lips together. The chaste<br/>connection was momentary, as their tongues quickly got to work twisting around the other’s<br/>mouth, reuniting. Hands traveled all over sun warmed skin as they continued to melt into each<br/>other, feeling as though 18 hours was the equivalent of 18 years, “Let’s go fuck,” Ian whispered,<br/>bucking his hips up with greater intensity.</p><p>“Give me like ten fucking minutes to close my eyes and then I’ll ride you into the bed,” Mickey<br/>promised, giving Ian one last kiss before standing up and throwing himself down on the other<br/>lounge chair.</p><p>“Cocktease,” The redhead chided, adjusting the raging boner inside boxer briefs and lying back<br/>down on the chaise.</p><p>“It’ll be worth it,” He assured him, the words lost in the midst of a yawn, “Ten minutes.” Turning<br/>over onto his stomach, Mickey closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift to sleep.</p><p>An itch on his back prompted Mickey to lift his eyelids. He squinted against the brightness of the<br/>day and raised his head a bit to see Ian fast asleep. Reaching down to pull his discarded jeans out<br/>of the sand, he took his phone out of the back pocket and glanced at the time. 12:30, “Fuck,” He<br/>groaned, sitting up and pressing the heels of his hands against his tired eyes, “Ian.” When he<br/>didn’t get a response from the redhead, he tried again, “Ian, baby, wake up.”</p><p>Ian kinked his neck so that he was facing Mickey with one eye open, “I’m sleeping.”</p><p>“I see that. Been sleeping for the last four hours.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you wake me up?” He asked, with aggravation in his voice, “Didn’t put any<br/>sunblock on.” He rested his hands on the fiery hot skin of his abdomen and sighed, “Fucking<br/>burnt.”</p><p>“Really?” The brunet asked, lifting one of his eyebrows as if his fiancé must be joking, “Ten<br/>minutes. I said to let me sleep for ten minutes.”</p><p>“Guess I fell asleep.”</p><p>“Guess I fell asleep,” Mickey mocked, rolling his eyes, “Sleeping Beauty over here!” He twisted<br/>so that Ian could see his back, “Am I red? It’s itching the fuck outta me.”</p><p>“Oh man,” Ian cringed at the sight of Mickey’s crimson skin.</p><p>“Bad?” He pressed, attempting to look over his own shoulder to no avail.</p><p>Ian’s lack of response was telling.</p><p>“As bad as yours?”</p><p>“Probably a little worse ‘cause your skin’s so much paler than mine,” Ian answered, sitting up to<br/>take a sip his water and then hand it over to Mickey, who grabbed it out of his hand, annoyed.</p><p>“You wish, bitch,” Mickey shot back, gulping down the warm liquid while giving the smirking<br/>man across from him the finger, “Don’t know how you’re acting so smug when your face is a<br/>goddamn tomato. That shit’s gonna peel like a motherfucker and you’re gonna look like Freddy<br/>Krueger.” He waved his hand in front of his own face for affect, “With freckles.” He stood up,<br/>“Gonna go take a cold shower and take the sting out.”</p><p>“You were supposed to ride me,” Ian stated, yelping when Mickey leaned in to flick his sunburn<br/>nipple, “Ouch, asshole!”</p><p>“You were supposed to wake me the fuck up,” He reminded Ian giving him his signature ‘what<br/>the fuck’ face, “You coming?”</p><p>“I guess not,” The redhead complained, following Mickey into their master bathroom. He watched<br/>as his fiancé stripped off his boxers and smiled when he realized that though his back and legs<br/>were cerise, his ass was still bright white, “Your ass was spared.”</p><p>Mickey glared at him, even more perturbed when Ian rested his hand on the unaffected skin and<br/>started to pinch it playfully.</p><p>“Ugh it looks so fucking cute right now; all pale and bubbly,” he got on his knees and bit into a<br/>cheek, “Looks like you still got shorts on.” He chuckled, but his merriment was short-lived when<br/>Mickey jutted his ass back hard so it hit Ian in the sun sore face, causing the redhead to grimace in<br/>pain.</p><p>“Fuck off,” Mickey said simply, turning on the shower and making sure it was a touch cooler than<br/>lukewarm before he climbed in. He winced at the pain the water caused as it beat down on his<br/>inflamed skin, “Just gotta stay under it for a few seconds,” he informed Ian, who was stepping in<br/>to join him, “Go ahead.”</p><p>Ian groaned as the stream pelted him, surprised to hear Mickey laughing, “What?”</p><p>“You look like you got shorts on, too.”</p><p>“Should I smack you in the face with my dick like you did with your ass?” Ian asked with a<br/>devilish grin.</p><p>“If you try to, I’ll rip your cock off,” The brunet warned, not looking like he was fucking around.</p><p>“You would never, you love it too much.”</p><p>Mickey just rolled his eyes and faced the shower head, letting the water beat down on the<br/>unaffected skin on his belly, “Can’t take it on my back anymore.”</p><p>“Here, you guard my front, I’ll guard your back and we’ll cool down,” Ian suggested moving in<br/>close to his lover, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s shoulders, so that he could press their sun<br/>scorched skin against each other.</p><p>“This ain’t fucking paintball,” The shorter man reminded him, chuckling at Ian’s intensity, “Don’t<br/>need you to guard my back.”</p><p>“Always got your fucking back, you know that,” Ian said, kissing Mickey’s hair with a hum.</p><p>“Corny fucker,” Mickey condemned without malice, tilting his head back to rest it on Ian’s<br/>shoulder and closing his eyes as the water washed over them.</p><p>“You love it.”</p><p>“Sometimes,” He admitted, “This isn’t one of those times.”</p><p>Ian let his hands roam down the front of Mickey’s body, loving the feel of every familiar dip and<br/>cut. As he held him, he smiled; the creasing of his skin bringing pain to his apple red cheeks.<br/>When it came down to it, if a little sunburn was their most pressing issue, they were doing really<br/>fucking great.</p>
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